Lady Vetinari
by Byrdde
Summary: Vetinari and a certain young lady have stopped by his mother’s manor. Unfortunately, the Lady Vetinari seems to have a very wrong impression…
1. Disclaimer and Chapter One

Disclaimer: Terry Pratchett owns Discworld, I don't. Bummer. Ienska and several of the minor characters in this are mine, however.

NB: Ienska is pronounced with a long "I" at the beginning.

This story is set after Assassin's Bane which is, in turn, set before the Discworld novels (circa pre Keel Ankh-Morpork). I really didn't intend to do anymore with Vetinari and Ienska, but they seem to have caused a small snag in the Trousers of Time and I don't seem to be able to resist tugging at it, just to see what happens.

~

"I thought you said your father was an accountant?" said Ienska Tineshan, craning her neck back to take in the towers and high walls.

"A hobby."

"Ah."

It really was an impressive manor, if you could call anything with so many walls and spikes a manor. The main building was surrounded by a gigantic stone battlement containing only a single, arcing entrance. Which was currently closed and looking very forbidding.

"How exactly do we get in?"

"Ah. There should be a bell pull…" Havelock Vetinari ran his hands along the smooth stone of the wall to the left of the giant gates. Ienska watched in interest.

It had taken quite a lot of convincing on Vetinari's part to get her as far as his mother's free holding. (Mostly involving such convincing arguments as "I see, and with exactly what money do you intend to do this?" and "Ah, so you don't mean to change your clothes or sleep indoors.") Now that she was here, however, she found herself intrigued against her will. She really wanted nothing to do with Havelock Vetinari. She kept telling herself so.

Vetinari's hand slipped into a cleverly hidden alcove in the wall. After a moment, the deep sound of a doorbell meant to be heard throughout the grounds and through several stone walls if necessary, rumbled through the air.

"It's nice to know that some things never change," said Vetinari, drawing his hand back out of the alcove. "Ah, Witrow." The last as a man, dressed smartly in the garb of a butler – or valet, Ienska wasn't quite sure what exactly the difference was – appeared on the other side of the portcullis.

"Young Master Vetinari?" said the man with what sounded like genuine pleasure. "Her ladyship will be most pleased to see you."

"Yes, thank you Witrow. Could you please inform Mother of my arrival, and advise her that rooms should be made up for a guest?"

"Of course, sir. I shall see to it personally." He glanced sidelong at Ienska, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly. "It will be my pleasure, sir." The man turned to hurry about his business.

"Oh, and Witrow?"

"Yes, sir?" Witrow paused just before ascending the stairs to the main entrance.

"Could you please open the gate before you go?"

"Certainly, sir. My apologies, just let me get the key…" He quickly made himself busy.

"You must excuse Witrow," said Vetinari, turning to Ienska. "He's not as young as he used to be. Mother mostly keeps him on for the companionship." He looked up at the towers, some of which seemed to be scraping wisps off the bottoms of particularly low clouds. "The old place is so empty these days."

Ienska glanced at him. There seemed to be something in his eyes. Grief? Regret? Wait a moment, this was Vetinari. That couldn't be right. She almost said something, but wasn't really sure what it would be. Something akin to "I'm sorry, was that emotion I just saw on your face?" seemed unfair. Or at the very least impolite.

Witrow finally managed to swing the gate open. It was silent, as if the hinges had been just recently oiled.

Ienska followed Vetinari through the archway. And stepped into another world.

Outside the walls, it was early summer, the fields were beginning to go golden and the sun was beginning to send a lot of heat down toward the general area of the Disc. It was quite a different story inside them. It was as green as early spring, tall shade trees casting cool shadows over much of the sprawling lawn and gardens. Everything seemed new and fresh.

"I see Mother has kept the gardens up," said Vetinari as the gate clanged shut behind them. Ienska glanced back at it wearily, the sudden sensation of imprisonment washing over her. "Come, we'd best hurry. No need to force Mother to wait."

The dark stone steps leading up to the grand entry way were polished until they gleamed in the mid-afternoon sun that filtered through the foliage. Witrow scuttled on ahead of them, pushing open the large double doors quite easily before turning back to face Vetinari.

"Her ladyship is in the large parlor. Does sir require anything at this time? Or for the lady?" Ienska almost glanced around to see what lady the butler was talking about. 

"No, thank you, Witrow. I believe I remember the way."

"Of course, sir." With that the man scurried off.

The entryway itself was sweeping. Actually sweeping. Long, elegant wall hangings swept gracefully from the floor to the high ceiling, making the already large room feel like a curtained off section of an even larger enclosure. Old portraits, expertly maintained, lined the few areas not covered by the deep green material. Several arcing halls led off into other areas of the manor's main floor and a golden, and, yes, sweeping, staircase climbed up to the second level.

Ienska shifted uneasily. She had never been in anyplace half so grand and felt her tunic and breeches to be a little out of place. She was also very suddenly aware of the dust clinging to her boots and the mess her hair must be in after the four day walk from Ankh-Morpork to the Vetinari Estates.

"This way," said Vetinari, stepping confidently off down a side passage lined by more of the well preserved portraits.

The room at the end of the hall was airy and bright, filled with a more comfortable sense of formality than the entry way. A large window, filling almost an entire wall, flooded the room with warm summer light. Furnishings, in the shape of several low couches and high-backed chairs, were scattered throughout the room in small groupings. In one corner a piano stood, sheet music laying open before it.

A woman, previously seated on a low sofa near the window, stood as they entered, beaming happily.

"Ah, Havelock. It's so good to see you again!" She hurried up and embraced Vetinari and then stepped back, holding him at arm's length. "It's been such a long time! You look so much older, Havelock. I'd hardly recognize you!" 

"Hello, Mother. I trust you are well." The woman nodded happily. And then she caught sight of Ienska. The warmth and intensity of her smile went up by ten points. At least. 

"And who is this?"

"Ienska Tineshan, Mother. She will be my guest for a few days, if you have no objections."

"Oh, heavens, no!" Lady Vetinari put one hand over her heart. "So it's finally happened! You can't imagine how I've wondered about this moment." She looked Ienska up and down appraisingly. "My, she is a pretty thing, isn't she? Although," she stepped forward, forehead creasing slightly. "I think we shall have to do something about her hair and wardrobe." Her smile brightened once more. "Easily amended. Oh," she held the back of one hand dramatically to her forehead. "The excitement might be too much for me! My Havelock, engaged!" 

Ienska's eyes flew open wide and her eyebrows shot up. Surely she hadn't just heard the woman say…

"And so much for a mother to do! I don't suppose you've set a date yet? No, of course not. How silly of me…"

Ienska turned to face Vetinari, jaw set and eyebrows still raised. He was holding the bridge of his nose between two fingers.

"Mother, I don't think you quite…"

"Witrow!" She turned apologetically to Ienska. "Please forgive me dear, but I'm dying to see what the book says about you." Witrow bustled into the room.

"Yes, your Ladyship?"

"Witrow, kindly fetch my book. And see if Cook can't make us up afternoon tea, please." 

"Of course, your ladyship."

"Oh, my manners!" said Lady Vetinari as Witrow hurried off. "Please, be seated, both of you." She motioned to a couch – a rather small couch, Ienska noted – across from where she herself had been sitting.

"Mother, if you would allow me to explain…"

"Oh, Havelock, I know you must be just bursting to tell me how you met and fell in love," she placed her hand over her heart once more and sighed. "I'm sure it was perfectly romantic. But please allow your dear mother her little amusement first. Now sit, I insist." There was something about that voice, hidden beneath the sighs and sugar, that demanded to be obeyed. The two sat. As far apart as was possible on the small sofa.

"I simply can't wait to make your acquaintance, my dear," said Lady Vetinari, seating herself gracefully across from them. "I'm sure you must be quite special. Havelock has always had impeccable taste."

"Lady Vetinari," said Ienska, trying to sound stern and respectful at the same time. "I am not marrying your son."

"Oh, bless you, dear!" exclaimed Lady Vetinari. "The bride to be has jitters. Isn't that the sweetest thing you ever heard. Don't worry, my dear," she said, conspiratorially patting Ienska on the knee. "We all go through it. I remember before my own wedding, I was quite terrified." She stared dreamily out of the window for a moment.

"Mother, please…"

"Here's your book, your ladyship," said Witrow, staggering back into the room under the weight of an enormous volume, which he carefully laid in the lady's lap. "And I shall return with your tea directly."

"Oh, isn't this exciting?" asked Lady Vetinari, flipping open the book. "I absolutely adore _Twerps' Peerage_. It's the ultimate authority on everyone who's anyone on the Disc. Now, what did you say your surname was, dear? Tineshan? Let's see here…" Ienska noted that the Lady Vetinari had never thought to even ask if she actually _was_ anyone on the Disc. "Tinyharm – no, that's too far…Ah, here we are, Tineshan." The lady was silent for a moment, reading. Her eyebrows slowly arched and a very small smile graced her features. She looked up. "Most interesting."

Ienska glanced over at Vetinari, expecting him to answer. Instead he was sitting, head slightly back, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

"What is that, your ladyship?" she asked, feeling that some comment was necessary. Lady Vetinari looked thrilled.

"It says here that the last known descendant of the Tineshan line was a Countess in pre-revolutionary Ankh-Morpork." A small shock ran through Ienska. She had only recently learned that there ever was a Countess Tineshan and had never truly digested the fact that even a distant relationship with her might mean noble blood. "No one knows exactly what happened to her, but it seems there are – or were, rather, they are quite old – rumors about an only son escaping out into the world and making his way as a commoner." Interested despite herself, Ienska leaned forward to look at the open pages in Lady Vetinari's lap. The lady was tracing the lines of a family tree with her finger. "_Excellent_ breeding…I don't think even a couple hundred years could taint this blood." She looked up. "And mysterious, as well. Quite extraordinary."

"Mother…" said Vetinari, head still tilted back.

"Hush now, Havelock." Lady Vetinari closed the book in her lap and leaned forward, hands clasped in anticipation. "How did you meet Havelock, my dear? Eyes meet across a crowded room? Sparks flying through the cool night air?"

"Not really," said Ienska. _Not at all._ "He tripped over my feet on a busy street. In the afternoon."

"Ah," said Lady Vetinari, knowingly. "Cards dealt by Fate's hand, a chance meeting. How romantic! And how did you fall in love?"

"Actually, we're not…" started Ienska, but at that moment Witrow hustled in carrying the tea tray.

"Ah! Tea time," said Lady Vetinari, setting _Twerps' Peerage _aside.

Witrow quickly handed each of them a dainty tea cup full of warm, amber liquid and a small crumpet coated in golden honey.

"Eat up dear, you look half starved," said Lady Vetinari to Ienska. "Really, Havelock, you could have seen to it that the girl got proper nutrition on your way to visit. And a coach wouldn't be amiss next time, either, dear."

"We left in rather a hurry," said Vetinari dryly. "Mother, I wish you would…"

"Oh dear, I do hope you haven't upset any of the higher ups in the Assassin's Guild?"

"Of course not, Mother. I merely…"

"Mind your manners, Havelock. We will catch up on our news later." She eyed Ienska. "Right now I think your lady could do with a rest. Why don't you walk her to the third floor, turnwise bedroom? I believe Witrow has already made it up for her."

Vetinari sighed. "Yes, Mother." He rose, dragging a confused Ienska to her feet in a way that might have appeared, to Lady Vetinari, mildly affectionate. In reality, he was simply forcing her to move.

"Don't you think we should straighten this out?" hissed Ienska.

"I will deal with her," replied Vetinari, glancing over his shoulder. "Perhaps she will be more reasonable when we are alone."

"And Havelock, dear?"

"Yes, Mother?" Vetinari paused and turned.

"I want you to hurry right back. You'll have plenty of time to spend with Lady Tineshan later." Her eyes were glinting.

Vetinari glanced momentarily heavenward. "Yes, mother."

"There's a good lad."

Turning, Vetinari dragged a still protesting Ienska from the room.

Well, that's the first chapter. If anyone's interested in more, please let me know.


	2. Chapter Two

Thank you so much for the reviews! Since there seems to be some interest, here's chapter two. Oh, one more thing: it has been pointed out to me that Havelock's parents died when he was young and he was left with a solitary aunt. As far as I know, this is true. I, however, seem to have slipped into an odd little pocket of the Trousers of Time, so please bear with me, and watch out for lint. 

~

Lady Vetinari watched the two leave, whispering in each other's ears, and sighed happily. Lady Tineshan seemed like such a nice girl. And good breeding, too, even if it did have several hundred years worth of common blood mixed in with it. In a way, that made it all the more romantic. 

A great family, one of the most highly esteemed on the Disc, fallen into ruin through a noble misunderstanding. Forced to live in the shadows and work their lives away for generations. And then one day, against all odds, a member of a notable family happens to trip…or perhaps stumble – yes that sounded much better…happens to stumble over the last of their line on a busy city street. He helps her up, their eyes meet…Yes, that was the way it was supposed to work.

"Your ladyship?"

"Yes, Witrow?" she asked dreamily, still imagining Vetinari gallantly raising poor Ienska up out of the street's dust.

"Will the ceremony be soon, your ladyship?"

"I imagine so, Witrow," she said. "You know Havelock. If we put it off too long, he will probably start thinking too hard. It's a dangerous thing for a young man to think too hard."

"Yes, your ladyship. Would you like me to begin arrangements for the ceremony?"

"That would be best, I think. We can hold the ceremony on the turnwise lawn at sunrise…yes, that's a pretty picture. And Cook had best start deciding what he will feed the guests. Oh, and we'll need a guest list! See to it, won't you, Witrow, and bring it to me to review once you have finished."

"Of course, your ladyship."

"And try to keep Havelock out of it, if you can. He seems a little more excitable than I remember."

"Yes, your ladyship."

"And see if Rose can't come over later today to help with the preparations and arrangements."

"I'm sure the Lady Richens will be delighted, your ladyship."

"Have I forgotten anything, Witrow?" asked Lady Vetinari, brow furrowing.

"What of the young lady, your ladyship?"

"Oh, yes." Lady Vetinari thought for a moment. "To begin with, we must get her out of those horrid street clothes. And see that a bath is drawn for her when she awakes from her rest. Have Rachel go through some of my old girlhood dresses and see if some can't be hemmed to fit Lady Tineshan for a few days. And send for the dressmaker, the young lady will need some clothes for daily wear as well as a wedding gown."

"I will see to it, your ladyship. Will that be all?"

"Yes, Witrow, thank you." The butler disappeared.

Lady Vetinari reclined gracefully on her couch. It would be a beautiful wedding. She could almost see it now. The ceremony under the rosy, pre-dawn sky; the sun peeking above the walls just as the final vows were sworn; and, if she timed it right, the golden light of dawn bursting full down upon the joyous scene as the music swelled.

The lady smiled. She had waited a very long time for this.

***

Vetinari firmly closed the door to the turnwise bedroom on the third floor. It was just possible that Ienska would remain behind it. The Lady Vetinari had certainly managed to upset her.

It might have been in better judgement to warn the girl of his mother's more impulsive tendencies.

When he reentered the large parlor, it was to find his mother still sitting on her couch, staring dreamily out the window.

He cleared his throat. "Mother, we need to talk."

She turned to face him, warm smile in place. "Of course dear. You must be very fond of young Lady Tineshan, I must say. I don't believe you ever so much as mentioned a young lady in your letters home," she said pointedly.

"There is a reason for that, Mother."

"Oh, I know. When you're young and in love every day seems like a wonderful surprise and you want to spread the joy around. But really, I wish you had mentioned this a little earlier. No matter, everything will be wonderful, just wait."

"Yes, Mother," he said. "I think I shall be waiting rather longer than you seem to believe."

The Lady Vetinari looked heavenward. "I suppose it was only a matter of time. Every young man is nervous before his wedding, and I don't know why you should be any different."

"I don't imagine I shall be, Mother. When the time comes." Vetinari sat down across from her.

"Surely you two don't plan to wait?" said Lady Vetinari with a frown. "After all, you're seventeen! By the time we were your age, your father and I…"

"I am aware of that, Mother," he said. "However, the situation differs."

"Oh?"

"Ienska and I are not engaged, Mother," said Vetinari, voice soft.

She blinked at him. Then, slowly, her eyes began to grow wider and wider. "Oh! I'm so sorry!," she gasped. "I ruined the surprise, didn't I?"

"Excuse me?"

"You didn't bring her here to introduce as your fiancée, you brought her here to propose! Oh, Havelock, you must believe that the thought didn't even occur to me!"

"Nor to I, Mother," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose once more in frustration.

"You always had a…different sense of humor, dear," she said suddenly, eyes lighting once more. "But you can't fool me. I know you better than that. You wouldn't journey here, _unchaperoned_ with a girl you weren't planning on marrying."

"Mother, please try to listen," Vetinari said patiently. "I am in no way involved with Ienska Tineshan. There is nothing between us." He considered this. "Except, perhaps, a good deal of resentment. I certainly have no intention of marrying her."

Lady Vetinari patted his knee. "You never did know quite when to give up on a joke, Havelock, dear. I do hope Lady Tineshan appreciates your unique brand of humor. Now," she stood, skirts rustling crisply. "I have a great many things to attend to. Why don't you take a short rest? And, perhaps, once the dressmakers have finished with Lady Tineshan, you may take her on a stroll through the gardens." 

And she was gone.

Vetinari leaned back on the couch. His mother had always been a particularly difficult person to explain things to. He closed his eyes. However, he had the feeling that he would remember their recent conversation quite fondly as he tried to explain to Ienska that he had not managed to sort things out and that, apparently, there was going to be a wedding in the next couple of days.

***

Ienska prowled around the chamber. It was a large room, well appointed and more richly furnished than any other she had been in so far. The drapes on the bed appeared to be hanging velvet and the sheets looked very much like silk. All of the various selections of wood furnishings tastefully scattered around the space shone in the afternoon light. And therein lay the problem.

The light filtered in through a series of windows lining the hubward and turnwise walls. With the strange instincts of someone who had survived in Ankh-Morpork for more than a week, they had been the first things to undergo her scrutiny. What she had found had not been to her liking. While the glazed glass appeared friendly and gave the room an open feeling, the iron cross work that ran through them was solid as stone. And they didn't open, not even the tiniest crack. For the second time that day, Ienska felt as if she were a prisoner. It didn't take dark and chains to make a prison. Oh no, the more elegant dungeons had gilt work and gold leafing.

She ran a hand along one of the windows again.

***

The entryway appeared deserted but, just to be safe, Vetinari checked again. The vaulted roof cast long shadows and the distant sound of trees in the garden could be heard. But no one seemed to be there. 

He stalked across the room and up the stairs.

Stalking was not, he felt, a dignified mode of movement, but sometimes it must be done. His mother was even more difficult than he had remembered. The comments about an unchaperoned journey had been her way of warning him that she wasn't a complete fool. And, perhaps, under normal circumstances, she may have been correct. Ienska, however, was far from normal circumstances.

He reached the top of the stairs and paused, torn between going to explain to Ienska that the situation was not yet resolved and a fondness for his eardrums. Well, that wasn't strictly fair. The girl rarely screamed. She could kill with sarcasm, though. 

He almost turned down the western hall, toward his own room. No need to face that without a moment's rest first. And yet, he would still have to face it. He sighed and turned back down the hall toward the room Ienska had been given. 

If she was still there.


	3. Chapter Three

I'm absolutely thrilled with all the reviews, thank you so much! For those of you interested in Ienska and Havelock's first meeting, I refer you to Assassin's Bane and would be honored if you read it. That said, on with the show.

~

The Lady Rose Richens hurried into the large drawing room of the Vetinari Manor. She had heard some strange tales from one of the maid servants, who had apparently heard from a lad who delivered eggs, who had heard from another maid, that the dressmaker had rushed out in the middle of a fitting to prepare for a rather special order at the Vetinari Manor.

"Freydis!" she called, bursting into the room. The Lady Vetinari looked up, startled.

"Rose! What a pleasant surprise!" she said, a smile lighting up her face.

Lady Richens put her hands rather defiantly on her hips. "What is this I hear about the dressmaker? Says she won't be able to let out my Lily's skirts for a week at least. Something about a wedding dress, at the Vetinari Manor!" She watched Lady Vetinari carefully. "Of course, I knew something was wrong! Who'd be getting married around here, I ask you?"

Lady Vetinari waited patiently for her friend to finish. "It's true Rose," she said, placing her hand over her heart. "It's ever so exciting and romantic."

A look of definite disapproval crossed Lady Richens' face. "Freydis, are you sure that, at your age it's a particularly wise choice to burden yourself with another husband?"

Lady Vetinari chuckled. "Oh, no, Rose. I'm not the one getting married, I resigned myself to that years ago."

"Then who?" Lady Richens glanced out the window to where two figures, one significantly taller than the other, were walking through the garden whilst engaged in an animated discussion. "Surely…he's come home, then?" she asked, staring out the window at the back of a tall lad with dark hair.

"Yes, and he's brought the most delightful young lady with him." She followed Lady Richens' gaze out to the lawn. "Oh bless them! They're having a lovers' quarrel. How absolutely sweet they look."

Lady Richens seated herself imperiously across from the Lady Vetinari, aware that it was her civic duty to find out all she could about this new comer and quickly spread the word to all the local manors. 

"What's Havelock's young lady called?" she asked, smoothing her skirts.

"Ienska Tineshan," said Lady Vetinari. "Havelock met her while he was at…school."

"She's of good family, then?"

Lady Vetinari's eyes lit up. "Oh my yes! Surely you've come across references to the Tineshans?"

"Of course, of course," Lady Richens said quickly. "I merely wondered if she was one of the Ankh-Morpork Tineshans, or from further abroad."

"I wasn't aware that there were any other Tineshans," said Lady Vetinari good-naturedly.

"Oh no, of course not," said Lady Richens. She stared out at the young couple again.

The young lady seemed to have stopped in the middle of the lawn with her back to the manor, hands clenched at her side. It was impossible to tell what was being said from the calm expression on Vetinari's face, but she imagined it was being said quite loudly, the girl seemed very assertive. She blinked. What _was_ the child wearing?

"Oh my, Freydis," she sad in shock. "I see why you had such urgent need of a dressmaker. She certainly doesn't dress the part of a young lady."

"Vetinari said they had to leave the city in quite a hurry. I imagine she didn't have time to pack properly."

"Ah. Well, we'll have to see to that." She glanced idly at the clock above the piano. "Well, I must be off, dear," she said, rising. "It's been lovely talking to you, and I simply must come tomorrow and meet Lady Tineshan."

"We'd be pleased to see you, Rose," said Lady Vetinari standing and clasping her friend's hands momentarily.

"I'll come with the dressmaker tomorrow, then. Mustn't have the girl face a new wardrobe alone." With that she took her leave of the Vetinari Manor.

***

The Lady Vetinari watched her friend's retreating back with amusement. If she knew Rose, she would rush right home to her own copy of _Twerps' Peerage_ and read everything she could find about the Tineshan line. The news would be all over the country side by the next morning.

"Witrow!" she called.

"Yes, your ladyship?" asked the butler, materializing at her elbow.

"Make sure Cook is prepared for guests tomorrow."

"Does your ladyship know how many will be stopping by?" he asked tactfully.

"I imagine quite a few."

"Yes, your ladyship. I'll see to it immediately."

Once the butler had departed, Lady Vetinari turned back to the window. 

The two had started walking again. She sighed happily as she noticed the rather large and obvious space between them as they walked. She could remember quarreling with Lord Vetinari, both before and during their marriage. Somehow, the apologies always made up for it.

***

The day wore on at the Vetinari Manor.

Lady Vetinari kept herself busy daydreaming and planning, confidently deciding the future of her son and his not-quite fiancée. Vetinari himself spent an exhausting afternoon arguing with the young lady in question and a tiring evening being meticulously ignored by the same young lady, who herself was rather wearied of the whole affair…ah, sorry, situation.

The night fell. One by one the firefly lights of candles dimmed in the manor's windows as its occupants settled in for the evening. Finally, only three windows remained lit. A passerby who happened to glance into the kitchen window, which was glowing a dim red, would have seen the cook bustling around, muttering to himself about nobility and their lack of respect for proper notice. The second lighted window, also at ground level, would have revealed Witrow and several other employees of the Vetinari family engaged in a rather heated game of Cripple Mr. Onion. Had our intrepid passerby carefully climbed up to the third window, three stories up on the turnwise and hubward corner of the house, he might have glimpsed a girl listening very carefully at her door for any sounds of motion outside the room. More likely, he would have fallen, screaming when he reached the loose shingles on the kitchen roof.

The light in the servants' quarters went out. Several hours later, the red glow of ovens faded. The third floor candle still shone out through the night.


	4. Chapter Four

Ienska gave a satisfied sigh as the final iron bar came loose. It had taken all night, and she could see the pink glow of dawn now, but she had made a way out. She leaned cautiously out of the window, searching for a safe way down. The kitchen roof was only a storey or two below her, but the roof tiles looked loose. Vines climbed up the sides of the venerable manor, looking quite strong enough to support her weight, but none of them were within reach, even if she dared to leap for them. Cursing, she straightened up.

And cursed louder as she banged her head on the window frame.

A sharp rap sounded at the door. She closed her eyes, maybe if she ignored it, it would stop.

The knock came again. She hadn't slept at all, the windows had taken all night.

A pause and then, "Lady Tineshan?" It was the voice of a woman, perhaps middle aged, but without the cultured lilt of Lady Vetinari.

"Yes?" she called, finally deciding that the world wasn't going to stop for a few hours just because she wanted it too. Obviously, it wasn't under proper management.

"Are you decent, my lady?" It sounded like someone very used to dealing with fussy noble women.

Ienska looked around the room. She'd never slept in the bed or used the wash basin that had been left for her. "Just a moment," she said. Quickly, she crumpled the blankets and tossed pillows before splashing water on her face and hair.

"Good morning, Lady Tineshan," said a comfortable woman in perhaps her late forties as Ienska cracked open the door.

"Good morning. Is there something I can do for you?" she asked cautiously, aware that there was a different set of rules here than she was used to.

"I've brought my lady breakfast," said the woman, pushing the door open and trundling in with a heavily loaded tray. "Her ladyship says that the dressmaker will be up shortly, she's receiving instructions now, and I am to see that my lady is ready to receive her."

"Dressmaker?" Ienska asked, a piece of bacon halfway to her mouth.

"Yes, of course, Lady Tineshan," the woman said, giving Ienska a good long look up and down. "And I must say that it appears you are in dire need of her services, my lady."

"Please call me Ienska," Ienska said desperately. "And, if you don't mind, who are you?" She finally took the bite of bacon.

The woman smiled. "My name is Rachel, my lady, and I'm to serve as your handmaid whilst you stay with us."

"Handmaiden," croaked Ienska, downing the cup of tea. It seemed to make the world brighter or, at least, make the brightness that was all ready there more bearable. "Of course." The Lady Vetinari's assumptions that Ienska was quite as used to dealing with all the frills and pomp of nobility were poorly off target. In fact, Ienska had never been served a day in her life…well, unless you counted all the folks who had tried to serve her cold steel, then it was a frequent occurrence.

"Now, if my lady will just undress," said Rachel, bustling the food out of reach.

"If I'll what?" said Ienska, nearly choking.

"Undress, my lady," said Rachel without missing a beat. "The dressmaker will be here soon and she'll need measurements and such."

"I think not," said Ienska coldly.

"Come now, my lady," said Rachel soothingly. "Just to your slip, surely you…ah." It apparently dawned on the handmaiden that a camisole is not a common undergarment to a tunic and pair of breeches. "I see."

"Yes," said Ienska in a flat voice.

"Well, then. I'll just nip out and find you one, shall I?" the woman departed quickly. Ienska watched her go, slightly regretful. She had taken breakfast with her.

As there wasn't much else to do while she waited, Ienska stretched out on the large bed, hands behind her head, and stared up at the canopy. How was she going to get out of this? She had thought that Vetinari would have it settled by now, but apparently that hadn't worked. They'd had quite a long…discussion about that. And a dressmaker! Ienska had only ever owned two dresses in her entire life. One had been for Hogswatch, when there really wasn't much choice about dressing up, and the other had been for situations when someone of slightly elevated social standing had needed her rather specialized services.* But Lady Vetinari didn't really seem like the kind to be discouraged, and fighting wasn't going to make the situation any better. She'd just have to wait it out, apparently. At least until she figured out how to escape from this gilt cage.  
[* See Assassin's Bane]

"Here we are, my lady," said Rachel, shaking out an old white chemise as she came back into the room. "Now, if you'll just slip this on, the ladies are on their way up."

Reluctantly, Ienska accepted the garment and began looking around for somewhere out of sight to change. After a moment, she stopped, a small frown creeping across her features.

"Behind the screen, my lady," said Rachel, misinterpreting her motionless stance.

"Did you just say ladies, as in plural?" Ienska asked after a moment.

"Why, yes, of course, my lady," said Rachel, appearing confused. "None of them would trust you into anyone else's care."

"Oh, of course," said Ienska carefully, stepping behind the screen.

The door burst open again just as she stepped out, causing her to dive back behind it either from instinct, modesty, or a strange mixture of both.

"Ah, there you are, my dear!" exclaimed Lady Vetinari, hurrying into the room, arms full of what appeared to be a mass of material. "Quite excited, I should think. A new wardrobe can do that to a girl! Oh, come now! We'll have none of that, come out and meet everyone, my dear." The lady dumped the armload on the bed.

Ienska, feeling rather self conscious about meeting everyone while wearing nothing more than a shift, stepped back out from behind the screen. Two other women, one young and slim with her apron stuck full of needles and the other rather a lot older and dressed in velvet, had followed Lady Vetinari into the room.

"This is Lady Rose Richens, her husband owns the tract of land just north of here. And this is Sarah. Sarah is the local dressmaker, and quite an adept one at that," said Lady Vetinari amenably. "And this is, of course, Lady Ienska Tineshan." The others nodded their approval.

"A pleasure to meet you," said Lady Richens. "I must say, when I saw you yesterday in the gardens, having a row with Havelock, you didn't appear the part, what with your breeches. But now, I'm sure, I can see your breeding quite well."

__

Hard not to, thought Ienska. _They can probably see everything else._

"Thank you, your ladyship," was all she said out loud.

"Oh, no need for that," said Lady Richens. "You may call me Rose."

Sarah had not been wasting any time. While the others had been talking, she had pulled out a tape measurer and began taking, well, measurements. Now she motioned to Rachel.

"Bring me the blue one."

Rachel obediently retrieved a pile of blue fabric from the bed and draped it over Ienska. On closer inspection, it proved to be a dress, though it was hard to tell beneath all the ribbons, lace, and frills.

"It was one of mine when I was a girl," said Lady Vetinari. Ienska refrained from comment.

"Do you have a preference for dress style?" asked Sarah from somewhere around Ienska's ankles, her voice muffled through a mouthful of pins.

"Um…" They came in styles? This was all news to Ienska, she had always figured that dresses were just fabric draped over people so that there was less sewing involved.

"Perhaps Ankh-Morpork high society? Or a more Hubwards style?" suggested Lady Richens.

"Something simple, I suppose," said Ienska uncertainly. All three ladies frowned.

"Well, I suppose, if we lowered the neckline," said Sarah slowly.

"No! I mean, no, thank you, it's fine where it is," said Ienska hurriedly.

"Raised the hem line?" asked Sarah hopefully.

"No," this time Ienska managed to sound firm. "The various lines are fine, thank you."

"Very well," said Sarah with a sigh. "I'll do my best." Her spirits were noticeably dampened as she pinned two more dresses, one in dark green and one a light sundress of airy white. "Give me a few moments, if you please," she said, and bustled out, arms full.

Lady Richens looked at Ienska, dressed once more only in the borrowed slip, with something very akin to reproach. "You might have let her have her fun, you know," she said.

Ienska couldn't really think of a suitable response to that. "Where is…Havelock?" she asked instead, stumbling over the use of his given name. The question seemed to thrill the older ladies, and they exchanged a knowing glance that would have gone over Ienska's head, had Lady Richens been a foot or so taller.

"Oh, not to worry, dear," said Lady Vetinari. "Men aren't very comfortable about things like dresses, they prefer to see the finished model, not the work in progress."

Lady Rose opened her mouth, perhaps to make a comment along the lines of men enjoying watching the work in progress a little _too_ much, but Lady Vetinari inadvertently tread on her foot just before the words came out. Ienska smothered what threatened to be a giggle.* Her formal education had been rather lax in some areas, considering her guardians hadn't expected her to live over the age of nineteen, but walking the streets of Ankh-Morpork had filled in some of the gaps for her. Not all of them, but enough to know why Lady Vetinari had stopped her friend's comment.  
[* A form of expression she tended to frown upon.]

"I see," said Ienska, trying to sound innocent.

"You'll have plenty of time with Havelock this afternoon," continued Lady Vetinari with the air of one about to reveal a wonderful surprise. "And this evening I'm having a little get together in honor of your and Havelock's engagement." Ienska flinched, hoping the ladies wouldn't notice. Never rely on hope alone.

"Are you all right?" asked Lady Richens in a concerned voice.

"Oh, still jittery about the nuptials, I expect," said Lady Vetinari, draping a maternal arm around Ienska's shoulders. "Why don't you just sit down until Sarah returns with your dresses, my dear?" She firmly pushed Ienska onto the bed and retreated across the room to speak in hushed tones with Lady Richens. Rachel stood calmly by the door.

This couldn't be happening, it really couldn't. There was no way she was going to marry Havelock Vetinari. She didn't even like him! Not to mention, he hadn't asked her. Which was beside the point, of course, because she hated everything he stood for and barely put up with him as an acquaintance. She wasn't marrying him. But apparently there was a countryside full of people who thought she was, and that could prove a problem. Nevertheless, she wasn't marrying him. Even if he _had_ asked.

"Here we go, best I could do," said Sarah, reentering with an armful of something that looked like a lot less material and a great deal less lace than when she had left. "Let's see how they look."

Resigned to her fate, at least temporarily, Ienska stood and allowed the dress to be slipped over her head and laced down the back. The ladies stood back to get a better view.

There was a moment's silence.

"Oh, my," said Lady Richens.

"My word," added Lady Vetinari.

"She certainly wears it well," commented Rachel from the doorway.

Sarah just stared, eyes wide. "Let's try the others," she croaked after a few seconds.

Hastily, the ladies placed the dark green dress on Ienska, who was wondering what all the fuss was about. Another moment's silence and the white sundress was fitted onto her.

"I think that will do," said Lady Vetinari, trying to sound matter of fact. "They all suit you very well, dear."

"I like that white one," offered Rachel.

"Sarah, why don't you take those last measurements?" suggested Lady Vetinari kindly. Sarah nodded mutely and went about her work.

"What are these for?" asked Ienska apprehensively as the width of her head was measured and recorded.

"Your wedding dress, dear," said Lady Vetinari absently.

"Oh," the sound was rather strangled as Sarah measured the circumference of Ienska's neck.

Shortly after, the women, including Rachel, hurried from the room, leaving a bemused Ienska behind. She bent and picked up one of the slippers they had left her.

Slippers. Weren't those supposed to be worn around inside when it was cold? And carried by fluffy little dogs? But they had assured her that these were the proper shoes to wear with the dresses and, since the only other option she had were her traveling boots, she supposed she'd have to deal with it. There were a great many things she would have to deal with until she made her escape, it seemed.

Still holding the slipper, she rose, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her jaw dropped and the ill fated slipper hit the floor with a dull thud.


	5. Chapter Five

Simple.

Why had she never thought of that? She had added bows and lace, chains and jewels, but had never _removed_ them before. It had been quite effective, too. The girl had looked ridiculous in the original dress, like she was swimming in an ocean far too deep for her. But a few snips of the scissors and rips of the cloth and…well, it had been a stunning transformation.

Sarah grinned to herself and clutched her notebook tightly.

It would be all the rage, soon as the girl was seen at the night's gathering. Which dress would she wear? Not that it mattered. They were all quite plain, and yet, somehow, when she wore them, they seemed to come alive.

***

Vetinari leaned against the stairs. Anyone passing by would have overlooked him and continued on their way, totally oblivious to his existence. He was brooding. It wasn't a pastime he indulged in often, but some situations called for it, and this appeared to be one of them.

He remembered when, as a small boy, he had inadvertently made a comment about poison – something to do with slugs in the garden – and his mother, hearing the last part of the statement, had come into the room and caught him up in a smothering embrace, proclaiming how happy she was that he had chosen his vocation so soon in life. Two days later, he'd found himself on a coach to the Ankh-Morpork Assassin's Guild.

This time, he realized, things needed to be stopped rather before events reached that point and he found himself standing in front of some local priest with Ienska, slipping a ring onto her finger. Which would be, if his mother had any say in the matter, much sooner than later.

How long did it take to sew up a few old dresses, anyhow? He was quite aware that the Ienska coming out of that ordeal would not be in the best of moods, but he needed to speak with her anyhow. And pray that he still had a life to live afterwards.

A soft step on the stairs caught his attention.

"It's about…" he started, and then stopped when he found himself face to face with a charming young lady he did not know. Probably one of the many people his mother had invited over to aid in wedding preparations. She frowned, dark hair falling rather fetchingly into her green eyes. "I'm sorry, my lady…" the sentence died in the air as he found himself faced with a much colder and sarcastic version of the green eyes.

"If you ever call me your lady again," said Ienska evenly. "The results will be painful and long."

"Of course, my apologies," he said, looking her up and down. He realized that he had never seen her in anything but the tunic and trousers she usually wore, and the winsome white sundress she currently wore was about as far from that as a liquid eyed mouse was from a cat that was rather free with its claws. The light material seemed to outline some things he had never really noticed before, bringing a few other things to the forefront of attention. And were those slippers?

"Are you quite done, then?" asked Ienska acidly.

"Quite," he said, placing his eyes firmly on her face. Even then, the reflection of the white fabric seemed to highlight her features in a very pleasing light. "I take it my mother and the other ladies are finished with you for the afternoon?"

"Apparently," she glanced up the stairs, "but I wouldn't really count on it."

"Shall we retire to the garden, then? I believe we have a few things to discuss."

She sighed and he carefully kept his eyes on her face. Ienska was probably one of the few girls on the Disc that didn't know exactly what a sigh did to the fabric of a dress. "I suppose we do," she said.

The two strolled out through the large entryway doors and into the peaceful green of the garden. Vetinari breathed deeply. It was good to be home again. He hadn't really had much time to appreciate the gardens the day before, it had been rather too loud at the time, but now he felt their soothing familiarity surrounding him.

"Pardon?" he said, realizing that Ienska had been speaking to him.

"When can we get out of here?" she asked.

"I imagine the sooner would be the better," he said. "Although I'm currently at a loss as to how exactly we will do that, short of a carriage with cans tied onto the back and a 'Just Married' sign tacked on." She froze beside him. On reflection, he decided that the joke had probably been in poor taste.

"Is that so?" He turned to face the girl who was standing, hands on hips. Or, rather, hands exactly where she was used to sword hilts being, which just happened to coincide with the general vicinity of her hips, which he was most certainly _not _staring at. "I rather think the chances of that are as good as the chances of it raining sourdough bread anytime soon." She paused. "Forget I said that.* It's just not going to happen."  
[* The two had recently departed Ankh-Morpork, after all, where rains of everything from small mammals to large kitchen appliances were quite common. No one would comment much if it rained bread, and certainly no one would complain about edible precipitation.]

"Of course not," said Vetinari. "I merely meant that, at the current point in time, we seem to be stuck between a rock and a hard place."

She rolled her eyes. "Why can't we just tell everyone we're not engaged at this party tonight?"

"They wouldn't believe us," he said. "Even if they did, it would make Mother look bad."

"And we mustn't have that, must we?" she said sarcastically. "The woman is trying to get us married! Show a little common sense, will you, and stop thinking like a gentleman."

"If I must remind you, I am a gentleman," he said evenly. "And my mother is doing nothing that she doesn't believe is in our best interest. It would be terrible form to discredit her in front of her friends, and I will not have it."

"Oh, yes, my lord," said Ienska sarcastically. "It's amazing what a few feet of rock wall and some silk will do to a person's sensibilities."

"You're not being reasonable," he said calmly.

Her eyebrows slowly ascended, casting her features into a look of pure incredulity. "_I'm_ not being reasonable? Oh, how foolish of me! Of course, every _reasonable_ person knows that it's perfectly all right to be forced into marrying someone by his eccentric mother who arbitrarily decided that they were already engaged. How foolish of me to see it differently!"

Vetinari patiently waited out her rant, noticing how she flushed slightly. "Are you finished?" Her eyes blazed and he prudently moved on. "As I was about to say, we will have to deal with this quietly."

"Because that's worked so well thus far."

"We are about to be, if you haven't noticed, the center of rather a lot of attention," he continued.

"Yes, I'd noticed. And, if you don't remember, I prefer to be unnoticed and unseen," she said.

"As do I, you'll recall. However, I do not think that is an option in this case."

"Right, and what are our options?"

The question hung in the air. Leaves rattled, a breeze wound through the gardens, somewhere a bird chirruped. 

"At the moment," Vetinari said finally. "Our only option is to play along."

"Or we could leave."

"How, pray tell?"

She looked at the immense gates and appeared to shiver. "You can't get them open?"

"I am afraid not," he said. "Father was very discouraging of movement either in or out of our walls without his knowledge. There are only two keys, one belonging to my mother and the other currently in the possession of Witrow."

"We could jump the butler," she said hopefully before catching his eye. "Only joking," she added sulkily.

"I should hope so."

"And when exactly will these other options open up? Sometime before the honeymoon, I expect?" she said acidly.

"I should think it would be too late by then," he said.

"Rather."

"But I will tell you as soon as I am aware of them," he said. "Meanwhile, I believe I will pay a visit to the stables and see if there are any horses we may be able to…liberate, when we do make our exit."

"Stage right," she muttered.

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing," she said.

***

Exit, stage right.

That about summed up the entire thing, didn't it? It was like some sappy old play written by some dead poet, Ienska thought bitterly. Except, at the end, the hero and heroine would not end up actually falling in love and going through with the wedding, and the tragic heroine would not kill herself, either. At least, she certainly hoped not, though it wasn't too far from the realm of possibilities lately.

She tried to reach the laces on the back of her new green dress. Finally giving up, she padded over to the door and opened it a crack.

"Is my lady willing to accept my assistance in lacing her dress, now?" asked Rachel rather smugly.

Ienska sighed. It was going to be a long night, most likely devoid of poison and daggers. But you never knew.


	6. Chapter Six

A ripple went through the hall as the girl appeared at the top of the ballroom staircase.* She was stunning, dressed in a deep green gown totally deprived of adornments aside from a single, sliver chain around her slender neck.  
[ *All properly dramatic ballrooms have sweeping staircases so that the unknown maiden may make a suitably recognized entrance.]

__

Is that her?

Who else could it be?

They always said that Havelock had excellent taste.

Who said?

Well, you know…they. And his mother.

Ah.

I hear she comes from an excellent line.

Do tell.

Yes, something about a mysterious Countess, I heard.

Oh, there's Havelock – doesn't he look dashing?

Vetinari waited at the bottom of the stairs for the girl to descend. Once she had done so, he offered her his arm. Several of the assembled young ladies swooned. The young Countess appeared to hesitate a moment before accepting his arm, but smiled – perhaps a little more coolly than was strictly proper – and took it after a whispered word. The two proceeded onto the dance floor.

A few of the more cynical guests may have noted that the apparently affectionate hand Vetinari had placed on top of the girl's wrist was, in reality, keeping her from turning around. They might also have noticed the whispered argument.

***

"Don't be ridiculous," hissed Vetinari through his smile.

"I'm not being ridiculous!," answered Ienska, trying very hard not to jerk away.

"It's not hard, just follow my movements."

This had not occurred to Ienska. She was at a party, the guest of honor at said party, and as such it was required she dance a waltz with Vetinari, whom the world currently and cruelly saw as her fiancée. To make things worse, they were being watched by every minor noble within leagues of the Vetinari Manor, all of whom expected her to be a Lady.

The music started.

"Oh, gods."

"Relax," Vetinari ordered, firmly holding her right hand and placing his other hand on her waist. "Put your hand on my shoulder and smile."

"Smile?"

"They won't notice anything else if you smile."

They started to move.

***

__

Don't they look lovely together?

My, that young lady certainly can dance.

They seem to be quite happy together, don't they?

***

Vetinari had attended countless social gathering such as the party currently in progress, but found it quite different to be the center of attention. He could not sneak off after the first few dances, for example.

"Come now, lad," said one of the local lords. "Have another one, we'll make a man out of you yet."

Vetinari accepted the glass of alcohol. "Thank you, my lord." 

The man beamed. "Looks like you got yourself quite a catch there, lad. Lovely young maiden."

"Yeah," leered a younger lord, no more than a year or two older than Vetinari himself. "I do wish they had cut her dress lower, though. You know?"

"Indeed?" said Vetinari, voice very low. The man looked at him, surprised.

"Well, you know…she's a very attractive girl," he floundered.

"Indeed," if possible, Vetinari's voice was even lower than before, and very dangerous. He carefully set the glass down. "If you'll excuse me, gentlemen." And he was gone into the crowds.

***

__

Did you hear Lords Ion and Cine discussing Havelock's fiancée?

  
No, I'm afraid I missed that conversation.

Just as well, they were quite rude. A girl your age does not need to hear those sorts of things.

Oh. Did Havelock hear?

Most certainly. And he was quite gallant.

Ah.

***

The Lady Vetinari looked around in pride. It had been a long time since this many of her neighbors had gathered peacefully under one roof. 

She politely tapped a spoon against her wine glass, causing those nearest her to fall silent and turn respectfully to face their hostess. Soon, the guests behind them got the idea and went quiet as well, until, in a sort of ripple, the whole room fell silent and the string quartet stopped playing.

"Good evening," said Lady Vetinari in a clear voice. "If I may have but a moment of your time, gentle ladies, good men, I would like to propose a toast." There was a slight pause as the few guests who hadn't had a drink in their hands scrambled to procure one. All the glasses were raised. "Tonight we celebrate the engagement of my son, Havelock Vetinari, and the Lady Ienska Tineshan. I am sure that all of our hopes for them are wonderful and full of our own unrealized dreams and that we all wish them the very best. To a long and loving marriage."

"To a long and loving marriage," chorused the room, raising their glasses higher before taking generous swallows.

It was a good thing that everyone was facing Lady Vetinari, because, at the back of the room, the glare Ienska was directing at her fellow toastee could have killed a troll.

***

Sarah looked down at the notes coating her small desk. They had been arriving since early that morning, each a request for a new dress in "the latest style." And they were offering more for the unadorned gowns than Sarah usually made in five months.

She carefully stacked the orders and set them on one side of her desk, pulling her notebook toward her. There would be plenty of time for those later, after she had finished with her masterpiece. She flipped open the sketchpad. There, staring back at her, were the haunting eyes of the Lady Tineshan and the design for her piece de resistance – although she wasn't exactly sure what that meant, one of her friends had assured her that it had nothing to do with pie.

She would have to hurry if she wanted to finish this work of art before Lady Vetinari's appointed deadline in two days. She reached for a pair of scissors.


	7. Chapter Seven

"It's really rather high up here isn't it?" asked Ienska, peering down at the ground, which was a good bit further below than usual. 

"I thought you enjoyed sleeping on roofs?" said Vetinari beside her. 

"Well, yes. Roofs don't move."

"Ah. Is that a hint of nerves I detect?" 

"No! I'm not nervous…are you sure this is safe?"

"Quite," he said, easily swinging up into the saddle of his own horse.

Ienska wrinkled her nose at the smell gently wafting off her gray steed. It wasn't unpleasant, that was a word she reserved for sewers and individuals who hadn't bathed in the last several months. But it wasn't particularly pleasant, either, smelling too much of hay and…well, she wasn't really sure what those other odors were. It was, however, quite strong.

"Are they supposed to smell like this?" she asked.

"I'm sure," said Vetinari. "Are you ready?"

"I suppose so."

Vetinari gave his white mount a small kick, urging him forward and the animal began to walk. Ienska steeled herself to set her own horse in motion. Before she could, however, the gray started walking on its own.

"What's it doing?" she asked, worried.

"Following," said Vetinari. "Horses are herd animals."

"Oh."

It wasn't so bad, really, if you just relaxed and let the horse steer.

They rounded a corner of the manor, where the walls swelled outward and left enough room inside for a small, circular track, which Vetinari led his mount onto and continued walking around.

Ienska felt she was starting to get the idea of this. Sit just so, let your legs fall thus, and hold the rope thingies just like that. Of course, her method of relaxed, backseat riding didn't take Vetinari into account. With a quick, amused glance over his shoulder, he urged his mount into a run. The bay, treacherous to the last, increased its stride to match, nearly throwing Ienska off.

It took her a few moments to readjust, but once she had she discovered that she was rather enjoying herself. She leaned forward a little bit and noted with some satisfaction that the horse sped up, drawing nearer to Vetinari.

"That was rather immature, don't you think?" she asked, coming even with him. He merely raised his eyebrows and, a moment later, increased his speed once more. "Hey! I was talking to you!"

A rare laugh floated back as he drew further ahead. Annoyed, Ienska tried to urge her own mount to follow. He was not as quick as the white monster Vetinari rode, but he seemed to be trying so she let him go.

After a lap or so, Vetinari pulled in and waited for the gray to catch up. Instead of stopping, Ienska continued racing around the track. Frowning, he went after her.

"How do I stop it?" she asked breathlessly as he came near.

"Ah," he said. "Pull back on the reins."

"Reins?"

"The ropes."

"Right, I knew that."

The two horses drew to a halt.

"That was…fun," said Ienska.

"Quite. I think, however, it is time for us to go back inside. I believe my mother is in need of your presence this afternoon."

"She would be," Ienska muttered darkly.

The two made their way back to the stables at a walk.

"I think you'll do fine if we take these two with us," said Vetinari, swinging down.

"Thank you," said Ienska, sitting proudly in the saddle. "I have one more question, though."

"Hm?"

"How do I get down?"

***

Lady Vetinari hurried into the third floor, turnwise room, followed by Sarah and another girl, much younger than the others.

"Ienska, dear," she said when she spotted the girl standing by the window. She was dressed in that awful tunic again but, supposed Lady Vetinari, that was better than ruining one of her new dresses by riding in it. "Sarah has come to do some more fittings."

The girl turned. "Fittings?"

"For the wedding gown, dear."

"Oh, of course." Ienska eyed the other girl.

"Oh, how uncivil of me! This is Lily Richens, Rose's daughter. Lily, this is Lady Ienska Tineshan. I'd say you two are about the same age," she said happily. "I'm sure you'll be good friends." It was probably a lucky thing that she turned her back without noticing the look of contempt that Lily leveled at the tunic clad, rather dusty Ienska. 

"Come now, Sarah, we haven't got all day!" said Lady Vetinari, clapping her hands.

"Yes, my lady," answered the dress make, draping some material over Ienska and adding some pins. "I should finish it by tomorrow morning."

"Good, good. Oh, that reminds me," said Lady Vetinari. "Rachel! Sarah's card, please."

Rachel appeared, gold edged card in hand, and passed it to Lady Vetinari who in turn relinquished it to Sarah. The woman stopped fussing around at hem level long enough to look at it. Ienska peered over her shoulder, but the woman shoved the card into her pocket before the girl could see.

"I'd be honored, my lady," she said offhandedly. 

Lady Vetinari beamed.

"Now, stand very still, this could hurt."

***

Lily stormed into the Richens' Manor. The nerve! How could Havelock marry some one so, so…so dusty! And in _breeches_, it was disgraceful!

She threw the gold edged card, rather more violently than she had intended to, into her mother's lap. Lady Richens looked up.

"Have a nice time at the Vetinari Manor, dear?" she asked, idly picking up the card. Lily fumed.

Frowning, Lady Richens looked down at the card Lily had brought home with her.

You are cordially invited to the   
Marriage of   
Lord Havelock Vetinari  
And  
Lady Ienska Tineshan  
To be held at the Vetinari Manor on  
June twenty-eighth.

"How sweet, don't you think, dear?" she asked her daughter, a slight edge to her voice.

"I suppose so, Mother," said Lily sulkily, crossing her arms as she sat primly next to her mother. And, she noticed with vindictive triumph, _her_ skirts fluffed out properly. None of that simplicity nonsense that that _girl_ had gone for at the dance. Really, what had Sarah been thinking?

"Whatever is the matter?" asked Lady Richens sharply.

"Oh, Mother! The girl is absolutely horrid!" lamented Lily, eyes narrowing. "She's a perfect peasant!"

"What a thing to say! She is a fine girl, and of good breeding too. You didn't think so poorly of her after last night's party, now did you dear?"

"No, Mother," answered Lily, hating the sound of the words. "But she was wearing breeches! And boots! And I never spoke with her properly last night, anyhow."

"Come now, my dear, don't be ridiculous."

"_How_ could Havelock fall for someone like her?" she wailed, trying to control her sobs enough to keep her face from streaking while still evoking her mother's pity. "She's as common as dirt! And she didn't even _know_ that we were there to fit her wedding gown! No proper lady would ever forget something that important!"

Lady Richens rode out her daughter's tantrum with a sigh. It was a pity, she had always imagined, somewhere in the dark recesses of her mind, that Lily and Havelock would…But, no. It was apparently not to be. As she listened to her daughter's complaints against the Lady Tineshan, her eyes grew hard.

"Are you finished?" she asked as the girl wound down, still shaking shamelessly.

Lily sniffled.

"Now, you listen to me, Lily Richens. Freydis Vetinari is one of my oldest friends, and I will _not_ have you ruin her son's wedding by carrying on so. I do hope you weren't discourteous to Lady Tineshan?"

Lily looked at her in surprise, eyes rimmed in red. "No, Mother," she whispered, wondering what had come over her mother. Lady Richens was usually willing to run to the end of the world for her daughter.

"Well, I'm glad that's settled," said Lady Richens, putting her arms comfortingly around her daughter. "Don't worry, dear. You'll find someone soon enough."

"Yes, mother," Lily's voice was muted in the folds of Lady Richens' dress.

"Now, I wonder if Sarah has enough time to make you a new dress before the wedding…"

***

The news spread across the country side and by the next day the gold edged cards were everywhere. It was whispered amongst the maids, discussed over tea, and toasted in taverns. Everyone went to bed with the same thought on their minds.

Tomorrow, Havelock Vetinari was to be married.


	8. Chapter Eight

Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews, they really brighten up my days. And now, the final installment…

~

Ienska was staring wide eyed around her room. Images of chains and dark corners full of skittering things kept superimposing themselves over her eyes. There was no way out. She raced over to the window again, looking desperately for some way to the ground that would, preferably, get her there in one or two pieces.

She had finally seen one of the invitations, framed and already hanging on Lady Vetinari's wall.

She turned to gaze around the room in horror again. Sarah had pulled an all-nighter the previous evening and now the wedding dress stood, white and threatening as a phantom, on a manikin in the middle of the room. Ienska shivered and looked away.

Her bag, already stuffed full of her things, was sitting in the middle of the huge bed and she was garbed once more in her comfortable tunic and boots.

Carefully, she stood on the window sill and leaned out, trying to see if there was something above the window she could grab hold of and use to shimmy over to the vines. When she was about as far out as she could go, a soft creaking reached her ears, followed by the tiny click of the bedroom door closing again. Very slowly, she ducked her head down so that she could see into the room without climbing back inside. She sighed with relief.

"It's about time you showed up," she said to Vetinari as he gave her an appraising look.

"Planning on flying over the walls?" he asked, going over and offering her a hand down, which he hastily pulled back at the intensity of her glare.

"If you haven't come up with something better, I might have to," she said, hopping down easily.

"Luckily, I don't think that will be necessarily, as much as I would like to see it," he said as he fished in his pocket. "Witrow is notoriously awful at Cripple Mr. Onion." He waved a key ring in front of her eyes.

"He bet the keys in a game of Cripple Mr. Onion?" Ienska asked, incredulous. "And your mother lets this man run her house?"

"Oh, no, he didn't lose the keys on a bet," said Vetinari, placing the ring back in his pocket.

"Then how…"

"I allowed him to win," said Vetinari. "A particularly fine bottle of Klatchian sand- whiskey. He was gurgling quite happily when we parted company." Ienska stared at him in disbelief for a moment before shaking her head. Did it really matter exactly which of the butler's vices Vetinari had played against? They had a way out.

"Let's go," she said, scooping the bag off the bed and rushing to the door. 

Moments later, the gardens' silence was briefly interrupted by the oiled hiss of the gate swinging open and the soft clang of it shutting once more. There was a jingling sound as a ring of keys arced back over the walls and landed in a bird bath. On the road outside, a small cloud of dust followed the noise of hoof beats into the night.

***

Lady Vetinari hummed happily as she did a mental check of the wedding preparations. 

Cake? Yes, Cook had seen to a particularly tall and majestic confection involving white and pale blue frosting that even now dominated the better half of the kitchens.

Dress? Sarah had done a splendid job of it! The end result put her in mind of a shining cloud descending to the Disc.

Rings? Witrow had them, two golden rings symbolizing endless happiness and devotion, each inlaid with a row of three diamonds.

Priest? She had sent to Ankh-Morpork for an all-purpose priest, willing to perform any ceremony. This particular priest had written an enchanting ode to love eternal and was currently rehearsing in the gardens.

That seemed to be everything, but there was a nagging feeling that something had slipped her mind. Whatever could it be?

"Your ladyship?" said Witrow, appearing in the drawing room.

"Yes, Witrow?" she said absently.

"The bride and bridegroom seem to have vanished, your ladyship." Ah, that was it. The children.

"Where do you suppose they have gotten to, Witrow?" she asked, frowning.

"I do not know, your ladyship," he said, his speech a tad slurred. "But there seems to be a set of horses missing from the stables."

"Ah," she said. "I imagine they have left, then."

"Yes, your ladyship."

"Everyone will be terribly disappointed, Witrow."

"Yes, your ladyship." The butler tried to conceal a hiccup. Lucky for him, Lady Vetinari was intent on her train of thought.

"Lots of people were planning on this," she continued.

"Yes, your ladyship."

"I imagine we put too much pressure on them, Witrow."

"Yes, your ladyship."

"Rushed them a little to quickly."

"Yes, your ladyship."

She sighed. "But it's all terribly romantic, isn't it?"

"Your ladyship?"

"I always thought it would be fun to elope."

"Yes, your ladyship," said Witrow, choosing not to express his private doubts on the matter.

"See that everyone goes home, won't you Witrow? And give them each a slice of cake for their trouble."

"Yes, your ladyship." And the butler was gone.

Lady Vetinari smiled and looked out the window, over the walls to the winding road that stretched out toward the rising sun. Somewhere out there, her son was enjoying himself, probably a great deal.

What a splendid story the whole affair would make to tell when her grandchildren came visiting.

She really did hope Havelock was enjoying himself.

END

~

I really didn't intend for this to be a very long fic - certainly not longer that Assassin's Bane, but it seems to have taken on a life of its own, so thank you all for bearing with me and I hope you enjoyed it. 


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